


before the bridge, an implosion

by rain_at_dawn



Series: stars, scattered [28]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Band Fic, Developing Relationship, M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_at_dawn/pseuds/rain_at_dawn
Summary: 20. things you said that i wasn't meant to hear
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Series: stars, scattered [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608877
Kudos: 28





	before the bridge, an implosion

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by @kittyongle on Twitter

The guide track is a sunny mid-tempo duet, the lyrics sweet but not cloying. Minho can see why it was thought of as a perfect fit for him. Except that he can’t forget what he’d overheard Kibum protesting inside one of SM’s meeting rooms, right when Minho had had his hand on the door handle.

_“… me and him, it just won’t work out.”_

Here they both are, in the studio, despite those fighting words. The song doesn’t even have a title yet. It’s just ‘Song 1’, marking the first time Jonghyun had attempted something for their sub-unit. The upbeat track, just in time for spring, had come as a surprise from Jonghyun, but then again, so had the proposal for a Minkey sub-unit in the first place.

Despite Kibum’s blank face meeting his through the glass that separated him from Minho in the recording booth, Minho had been grateful for everything up to now. All he’d needed was Kibum’s agreement and even that had come through eventually.

But it’s a hollow victory.

Kibum hasn’t smiled once since they’d stepped into the studio, as if he’d come to know about the eavesdropping earlier. Minho looks back at the lyric sheet, scratched over with his own notes and each shred of advice he’d taken from Jinki. The real trick to putting across just the right feeling was to imagine the song as a type of confession no one would hear.

_“Like in church.”_ Jinki had offered, then chuckled. _“Maybe scratch that. Wouldn’t want to offend Jonghyun.”_

Minho feels the frown creep over his forehead and tries to smoothen it with a thin-lipped grimace. At least Jonghyun hadn’t provided the lyrics for this one; that had been up to Minho. Kibum’s help had been sought, but that still seems to be up in the air. As of right now, this feels like a solo track, which is anything but what Minho had wanted.

This song isn’t supposed to be a confession. It’s just a feeling; a couple of them.

He tries not to look at Kibum and swallows. Then he sings his lines like he’s supposed to, instead of how he wants to. If there’s any room for a window to glimpse into what’s running through his mind, he hopes that at least getting this down perfect will obscure it.

It takes four tries for him to get it right.

* * *

Kibum is wearing the same tweed jacket he’d debuted on Insta yesterday; the post had been hashtagged #present and expressed sincere thanks to the designer friend’s contribution. In the picture, it had fit perfectly, from the width of his back to the length of his sleeves. When Minho looks at it now, he wonders if Kibum’s fingertips were meant to appear so small and pink as they emerged to haul the can of diet soda from the vending machine dispenser. Like a cat’s paws.

“That’s bad for you.” He remarks as Kibum snaps the tab open. “You’d better drink something hot afterwards.”

Kibum ignores him the same way he’s been doing since preparations for the single had started. Years ago, Minho would have been ecstatic at the sound of silence that met him whenever he had to tell Kibum off. But it had still been years ago and he’d come to like Kibum’s voice since then.

Even if he had to hear it while they were arguing.

When Kibum takes a sip from the can and exhales, Minho feels the tiniest sliver of satisfaction which immediately stretches into irritation.

“If you’re mad at me, just say so. Even if we aren’t friends, you still have to tell me these things as a colleague.”

This seems to strike the right nerve in Kibum. He finally turns to Minho to fully face him, eyes lit with something hot and raw; the impression of it doesn’t entirely leave his face, even as he schools it into a more neutral expression.

“I’m not mad.” It’s a cold, blank thing to say, especially coming from Kibum, and that worries Minho further. He will readily admit – with an ounce of reluctance – that Kibum’s honesty is appealing; his favorite thing about him.

“But you are! You didn’t want to go through with this. I heard you.”

There’s the sound of a hissed inhale perforating the echoing quiet in the hallway. It’s the encroach of Kibum’s temper rising, the heat gathering into a cyclone enclosed in the middle of his next retort: “And you couldn’t have just walked in and said your piece then?”

Minho throws his hands up, palm open in frustration. “No. Because I expected to hear it from you. I just gave you enough room to do that.”

“You did.”

It’s always strange to hear Kibum concede and so directly, at that. Minho’s used to sideways apologies which come neatly wrapped in Jinki’s, Jonghyun’s or even Taemin’s words, relayed to him during a meal or after practice in the wake of Kibum’s absence. If Kibum wanted to cuss him out instead, the string of insults would always shoot straight off his own tongue.

“So…” Perhaps the shock of it has Minho too perplexed to form an appropriately cutting response. “You don’t want to do this. Because of me.”

Maybe he should’ve just walked away in disgust; he hates how pathetic he sounds. Like he needs something from Kibum. Like he could expect anything at all.

Kibum exhales. It feels quivery, tremulous and nothing like what Minho imagines could escape that tightly controlled façade.

“It’s not because of you. It’s me. How I feel.”

Their gazes shift closer and meet in the middle. For a split second, there’s a flash of that lightness which he had glimpsed in Kibum’s eyes over the last summer – _View_ filming, the unguarded laughter, loud and cataclysmic, Minho’s world upending in a brush of fingertips on his arm and a glance that lingered too long.

It all falls into place.

He moves towards Kibum, seeking that touch and finds that Kibum’s shoulder trembles underneath it.

Minho draws him in for a hug, hoping that Kibum finally gets it too. 


End file.
